


A Deafening Distance

by tricksterity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Established Relationship, First War with Voldemort, M/M, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Smut, hurt and no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus hears the front door creak open and the whirling wind outside slam it shut. He hears a quiet, bitten-off curse immediately following that, and something like molten lead settles in his gut and he can’t quite tell whether it’s lust or anxiety. Heavy footsteps sound throughout the house from the ridiculous clunky boots that Sirius has always insisted on wearing, and that just makes the sensation in Remus’ stomach worse. </p><p>This is <i>Sirius</i>. There’s no way he could be the spy, no matter what Peter thought, even when Peter confessed quietly to him that Sirius had happily betrayed them all in fifth year by telling Snape where the entrance to the Shrieking Shack was and it was likely that he’d do it again. He he can’t imagine that Sirius would ever betray them, but with Voldemort promising equal rights to the werewolves in his new world, there’s always the possibility that Sirius loves Remus so much that he would give up everything for Remus to be happy.</p><p>But he can’t allow himself to forget what monstrous things people do for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deafening Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [criesmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/criesmom/gifts).



> Shout out to Rin for making their big debut on AO3 - here's some more heartbreaking angst for you.

* * *

 

 

Remus hears the front door creak open and the whirling wind outside slam it shut. He hears a quiet, bitten-off curse immediately following that, and something like molten lead settles in his gut and he can’t quite tell whether it’s lust or anxiety. Heavy footsteps sound throughout the house from the ridiculous clunky boots that Sirius has always insisted on wearing, and that just makes the sensation in Remus’ stomach worse.

 

This is _Sirius_. There’s no way he could be the spy, no matter what Peter thought, even when Peter confessed quietly to him that Sirius had happily betrayed them all in fifth year by telling Snape where the entrance to the Shrieking Shack was and it was likely that he’d do it again.

 

But it’s _Sirius_.

 

He’d spent months begging Remus to forgive him, and he remembered being absolutely furious with Sirius for weeks after learning the stupid stunt that he’d pulled, the terror in Snape’s eyes two days later when they’d finally seen each other in person since it happened and Remus had felt his stomach drop out and his heart launch up into his throat at how much he had frightened that boy. More than that, however, was the burning in his eyes and the balloon that welled up in his sternum when he thought about how carelessly Sirius had betrayed him like that.

 

Like he thought becoming a murderous, bloodthirsty monster every month was _funny._

 

Of course Remus doesn’t think that now, or he wouldn’t be waiting up in their bed with the lamp on and a cup of cold tea despite the fact that it’s nearly midnight. He knows from the months that Sirius had spent trying to claw his way back into Remus’ good books that he hadn’t really thought that Snape would have been stupid enough to actually listen to his advice, and although that didn’t change the fact that he’d still betrayed Remus, he’d made up for it.

 

Remus had forgiven him.

 

And then Dumbledore had to inform them all that there was a spy in the Order.

 

Remus understood Peter’s fear, everyone was watching their backs, shooting tense looks over their shoulders, wondering who out of their friends would betray them to someone like Voldemort. Remus had a hard time believing that it could be anyone in the Order, let alone one of his friends… but it had to be someone. It could very well be Sirius.

 

The last few months had been hectic and utterly exhausting. Harry’s birth had come and gone with bright smiles and celebrations and Remus’ heart stuttering at the soft expression that had taken over Sirius’ face when he’d held his tiny, dark-haired godson in his arms and tried not to cry. James had offered to make Remus his second godfather, but Remus had just looked down to his scarred arms and declined, ignoring the knowing look in James’ eyes.

 

Now all of that happiness was gone along with summer, and as the skies grew greyer so did their prospects. Remus hears the telltale whistle of the kettle being flash-boiled by magic, and the gentle clinking of china as Sirius gets himself a mug. It's been weeks since Remus has seen Sirius in anything but passing, at least a month since they've slept in the same bed and whispered into the night and pressed kisses into each other’s skin. Remus has been spending a lot of time negotiating with the werewolves at Dumbledore’s behest, and he has been forbidden from telling anyone – including Sirius.

 

He knows what he looks like now, even more run-down and scarred than he usually does. He’s twenty-one years old and he’s already found grey shot through his blonde hair. Sirius had pulled him aside at an Order meeting two weeks back, one of the only times that Remus had managed to sneak out to report to Dumbledore. He’d run his hand through Remus’ curls and his eyes flickered with jaw clenched as he said that Remus looked like tarnished gold, like someone’s prized medal that had been worn away far too quickly.

 

Sometimes Remus feels like he's tarnished after spending so long with the werewolves, the creatures who embraced the animalistic side of themselves and scoffed at Remus for not wanting to be a mass murderer every month. None of their scars are self-inflicted like Remus’ own, they’d all turn their claws on each other instead of themselves each month, and encouraged Remus to do so. Every full moon that he spends with them he feels like he’s losing some vital part of himself.

 

Soft footfalls come down the hallway, Sirius having toed his boots off some time ago, and Remus looks up through his lashes as their bedroom door opens and Sirius enters with two matching mugs of tea, one painted with a pawprint and the other with a crescent moon, courtesy of Lily’s painting classes that she’d attended before she, James and Harry went into hiding.

 

“Hi,” Sirius says, and Remus can’t stop the smile that overtakes his face, probably making him look like an idiot.

 

“Hey,” Remus replies. “Long day?”

 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Sirius sighs. He places the two mugs onto the bedside table, rolling his eyes at Remus’ cup of cold, half-finished tea, and begins to strip out of his heavy leather jacket and dark jeans. It’s been years since Remus has finally been allowed to openly look at Sirius when he undresses and yet he feels like he’s intruding, and ducks his head to continue reading his book, eyes skimming over the words like they’re not even in English.

 

It’s been so long since he and Sirius have been together that it feels like he doesn’t have the right to look at him so familiarly anymore, even though they live in the same house and share the same bed and have rings on each other’s left hands.

 

The bed dips and Sirius is lying next to Remus with a sigh, and Remus can’t help the wince that he makes when the change in position makes his stitches pull a little painfully (he can't afford a healer, not now, not in times like these). He waves away Sirius’ questing, confused fingers and insists that he’s fine, but folds the corner of his page down and throws his book so that it lands on the pile of clothes in the corner.

 

His insistence that he’s fine feels a little empty when he hisses through his teeth the whole time he moves from a sitting position to lying down.

 

“ _Remus_ ,” Sirius says sternly, and Remus can’t even turn and look at him, just clenches his jaw and stares stubbornly at the ceiling. “Love, please, are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine, Sirius,” Remus snaps. “Leave it alone.” Silence reigns throughout their bedroom then, broken only by the soft breaths that the two of them make side-by-side in their bed. Remus wants nothing more than to reach out and hold Sirius to him, to press biting kisses into his neck and straddle his hips, sinking down on him with an animalistic roughness that’s been at the edges of his consciousness ever since he’s been working with the werewolves.

 

Instead he clenches his hands into fists and remains still where he is, not wanting to taint his and Sirius’ relationship with what he’s becoming. Sirius deserves nothing more than gentle kisses and their fingers intertwined as Remus wraps his legs around Sirius’ hips and allows him to swallow the moans that escape his throat. He deserves nothing less than gentle sweetness and for Remus to worship at his altar, for Remus to drop to his knees and feel metal-calloused fingers tangle through his blonde curls.

 

Remus doesn’t even realise that he’s crying until Sirius trails a finger down his cheek, wiping the saltwater away. He swallows thickly and turns to Sirius, sees his dark eyes filled with so much love and devotion and confusion, and Remus doesn’t deserve _any_ of it. He sees so much love that he can’t imagine that Sirius would ever betray them, but with Voldemort promising equal rights to the werewolves in his new world, there’s always the possibility that Sirius loves Remus so much that he would give up everything for Remus to be happy.

 

He can’t allow himself to forget what monstrous things people do for love.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks, and Remus wants to spill everything to Sirius but he’s under orders not to. That, and he has to admit to himself that he can’t bring himself to trust anyone anymore, not even the love of his life.

 

“Nothing, Sirius, don’t push it,” Remus replies, his throat finally opening up and allowing him to speak. “It’s just… been hard, and I feel like everything’s only going to get worse.”

 

Something in Sirius’ eyes flicker strangely then, but Remus is distracted when Sirius cups his cheek and jaw, tilting his face up so he can press a kiss to the fragile skin just underneath Remus’ ear, and Remus can’t quite stop the sob that makes his chest heave. He digs his teeth into his lip to prevent the noise from escaping, and presses his nails deeper into his palms and doesn’t move, doesn’t stop Sirius from trailing his lips down his neck, worshipping him gently in the way that Remus should be doing to him.

 

His breath hitches when Sirius’ kisses become the scraping of teeth, and he can’t stop the moan that escapes him when Sirius begins to suck a mark into his skin just at the joining of his neck and shoulder; something that Sirius has always been fond of but now makes that animalistic _thing_ inside Remus’ chest rumble happily.

 

Sirius makes his way back up Remus’ neck, his breath hot on Remus’ ear.

 

“I love you,” he breathes, and Remus has to snap his eyes shut at the force of the sob that emerges from his chest. He unclenches his fingers and twines his hands through Sirius’ hair, opening his eyes as he turns to him.

 

“I love you too,”  Remus replies. “So much that it hurts.”

 

Sirius dips down and finally puts his lips to Remus’, who surrenders and opens his mouth for Sirius to plunder. It’s so good that Remus’ toes curl and his fingernails scrape along Sirius’ scalp and he doesn’t even let the pain from his pulling stitches distract him from being thoroughly devoured by Sirius Black.

 

Sirius pulls away and begins to bite his way down Remus’ neck, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of Remus’ pajama top, hands sliding down Remus’ chest to grab a hold of his thin, pointed hips. Remus tightens his hands in Sirius’ hair as he makes his way across Remus’ collarbone and down his sternum, moving so that he’s kneeling between Remus’ spread legs on the bed.

 

He can’t help the arch his back makes when Sirius attaches his mouth to a nipple, and Sirius uses the space to slide both of his arms under Remus’ back, encasing him entirely as he continues further down, pressing biting kisses to his scarred belly and down even further-

 

Remus gasps out _I love you_ as Sirius wraps his lips around him, and Sirius briefly says those words back into Remus’ mouth as he breaks away to pull something out of the bedside table drawer, cooling tea forgotten. His breath gets stuck in his throat when Sirius pushes a wet finger inside him, and Sirius kisses the salty tears off his cheeks as he whispers praise into Remus’ skin:

 

“I love you,” and-

 

“I’ve missed you so much,” and-

 

“It’s been far too long,” and-

 

“The things I want to do to you,” and-

 

“Sometimes it feels like my heart is breaking because I see how exhausted you are and you won’t tell me what you’re doing and I feel like I’m losing you and all I want is to hold you in my arms and never let you go,” and-

 

Remus can’t get enough air when Sirius finally pushes into him, arms wrapped around Remus’ back, kisses and bites being laved into Remus’ pale skin. He wraps his legs around Sirius’ waist and digs his heels into his back, arches up with every thrust that punches the air out of his lungs and tightens his fingers in Sirius’ hair and thinks that even though it’s been weeks, this doesn’t feel like a hello, but a goodbye.

 

Remus wants to reply with _I love you too_ and _I’ve missed you_ and _I want to trust you more than anyone and I should but I can’t because I don’t know who to trust and you’ve betrayed me once before but I love you so much I could burst and I don’t know how to handle loving you and hating you this much all at once._

 

Instead he just lets the tears fall between Sirius’ thrusts, digs his fingers into Sirius’ shoulders, clutches onto him like he’ll never let go, bows his back and opens his eyes to notice that the calendar will need to be switched over soon, because it’s October 30th.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I fucked up my tenses anywhere because honestly I'm so bad at noticing this shit.


End file.
